Sometimes, the world is just a strange place. I wrote 15 punning words on a contest form last year at Salty's restaurant, and now I've won Sunday Brunch for Life.

I got an email about it from the PR person for the restaurant this morning and didn't quite believe it. Then they wrote, wanting a quote and permission to use my name in a press release. Now I believe it.

Now, Salty's does a great Sunday brunch, and there's no arguing with the view. Chances are, the prize is for the life of the restaurant, but who knows? Maybe I'll be there in 30 or 40 years, extending my Social Security benefits with a free brunch. The more I think about it, the more the prize creeps me out a little bit.

First, since I have no way to estimate whether Salty's stays in business longer than I do, I'll go with my mortality rather than the restaurant's. The average white American male lives to ~77 years of age. Assuming that I'm not eating brunch often for the last few of those years, let's assume conservatively that I'll eat 35 years worth of brunches.

For purposes of this estimate, I'll ignore the risk that I might move out of the neighborhood of a Salty's; too hard to calculate.

Now, assume further that I'm lazy and only go to Salty's once per month instead of every Sunday. Not a big assumption, really. So, 12 brunches times 35 years is 420 brunches.

Since this is a fancy spread, each brunch is worth $27.95 plus tax, or ~$30 to make the math easier. Multiply by 420 and you get $12,600. I won't adjust for inflation because it's a pain; let's just assume the value is in constant 2004 dollars.

Of the 15 words, I only wrote 11 (I can't take credit for the "I like Salty's because") intro. And $12,600 divided by 11 words equals $1145 per word.

That's pretty much the pinnacle of my writing career right there, folks.